


This Mortal Coil

by DebC



Series: Old Soldier [1]
Category: Highlander: The Series, NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-08
Updated: 2010-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-10 00:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebC/pseuds/DebC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gibbs is shot in the line of duty, a secret is  revealed to those who didn't already know it.  The shooter, a man with a  connection to Gibbs' past, will stop at nothing, including kidnapping a  member of Gibbs' team to lure him out.  Can Gibbs earn back the trust  of his team (and the man he loves), so they can work together to save  one of their own?</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Mortal Coil

_[California Gold Rush]_

_The town of Sweetwater was bustling with people this morning – a Friday, if Gibbs had been keeping track and he had not been keeping track beyond their dwindling cache of supplies – when Gibbs rode in with the wagon.  They didn’t need much.  A new pick axe and shovel, some jerky and corn meal.  Gun powder.  He wouldn’t mind picking up a copy of whatever passed for a newspaper.  News from back east, any at all, was a hard to come by commodity way out here.  But Gibbs did not put too much hope into that.  It was more likely that there wouldn’t be one._

_He stopped the wagon in front of the mercantile and hitched the horse to the post.  Patting the side of her neck, he gave the tired animal a soft word of assurance and strode into the building with his list in the pocket of his duster and his rucksack in his hand._

_The owner of the mercantile was an older man named Fowler who often looked too thin and frail to be living on the outskirts of such untamed lands.  He wore round bifocals which gave him the exact same look as an old barn owl and the brown suit he always seemed to be wearing whenever Gibbs saw him did not help matters any.  It only solidified the association in his mind.  Fowler had two sons who helped him whenever there was heavy lifting to be done and flirted with the ladies of questionable morals at the saloon when there wasn’t._

_It was the older son, Gary, who stood behind the counter when Gibbs pushed through the swinging doors._

_“Afternoon, Mr. Gibbs!”  the young man greeted._

_Gibbs nodded his head to acknowledge the greeting._

_“Don’t see you or Mr. Leonard often,” the boy – although Gibbs had a hard time telling himself the ‘boy’ was older than he himself had been the first time he had gone off to war – went on.  “Is there something I can help you with?  Something you need?”_

_“Ah yup,” Gibbs said at last.  “That there is, Gary.”  He reached inside his duster and pulled the list – scratched on what was of the last bit of wrapping paper from their last supply run – and began to read it off.  “I need a couple bags of corn meal, beans, flour, jerky…”  He went down the list of food stuffs first.  “Tobacco, if you have it.”  Not for himself, but Leonard had a bit of hankering for it now and again._

_“Leaf, or plug tobacco?”_

_“It’s for a pipe,”  Gibbs said, not really answering the question, but answering it all the same._

_“Leaf, then.  I think we have some in the back.”_

_Gary left him alone to go check and Gibbs took the opportunity to walk around the store, looking at any items that might be new.  He bypassed the tools and the barrels of sweets and what have yous, bolts of cloth in various patterns and colors, and returned to the front of the store just as Gary was returning with a parcel of the leaf tobacco._

_“Will there be anything else, Mister Gibbs?”  Gary asked.  “Feed for your horses, perhaps?”_

_“Got plenty of feed,” Gibbs told him.  “Could use a new shovel and pick axe, though.  Seem to go through those like they were toys.”_

_“Looking for gold can’t be easy,” the young man said amicably.  “Not that I know anything about it, but it doesn’t look easy.”_

_Gibbs shook his head.  The young man knew very little beyond his father’s store and the small town which had sprung up around it.  Sheltered, that’s what the Saw Bones had said after talking to both of the Fowler boys on their first night in the area.  Ripe to get a bullet in them by accident, he’d declared.  Gibbs hoped not, but they were too much like tenderfeet for his liking._

_“It’s not like picking up shells at the beach, that’s for damn sure,” he agreed with a curt nod of his head.  He glanced at the door.  “My wagon’s out front.”_

_The young man nodded his head.  “I’ll get the rest of it for you right away, Mister Gibbs.”  He paused and then added, “Say… I almost forgot.  Miss Sheffield over at the school house was asking about you and your friend the other day.”_

_Gibbs paused at the doors and looked back at Gary.  “I see.”  He gave a little grin and shook his head.  “I suppose she wanted to know if one of us came into town?”  Alice Sheffield was the prettiest little school marm in over a hundred miles in any direction and she was more than a little sweet on the Saw Bones._

_“She might have said something like that,” he replied._

_Gibbs grinned again, and instead of going out to the wagon, he helped the young man carry out the heavier items.  He supposed he could stop by the school house on his way out of town.  The last time Matthew came into town, he came back with a basket of baked goods.  Gibbs had a feeling the woman had her ways of figuring out just the right moment when their supplies started to run low. Probably started baking extra breads and pie, just hoping that today would be the day one of the two lonely prospectors rode into town._

_“Her husband died on the wagon train out here, you know,” came a voice from behind them._

_“Afternoon, Fowler,” Gibbs said, acknowledging the old shopkeeper’s words with a nod of his head.  “I had heard something about that.  The fever, wasn’t it?”_

_Fowler nodded.  “Him and a handful of youngsters were the only ones lost, more’s the pity.  Miss Alice finally put off her mourning clothes just before you and your partner came into town.”_

_The words were pointedly direct, and Gibbs heard what the older man wasn’t saying as clear as he heard his own voice replying, “I think I understand.  Thank you, Fowler.”_

_“Good to know we are agreed, Mister Gibbs,” he said with a curt nod of his head. “Here, boy,” he said to his son.  “Let me take care of the rest of Gibbs’ merchandise.  You run and tell the school marm to expect company.”_

_“Yes, sir!”  Gary dropped the sack of corn meal onto the wagon and took off at a sprint._

_Gibbs chuckled, then sobered a little bit.  “Any news from back East, Fowler?”_

_“You always ask that, you know?  Your friend, Mister Leonard, doesn’t.  Wonder why that is?”  the merchant commented, almost warily._

_Gibbs gave a little shrug.  “Lost his only family a few years before we came West.  Guess he doesn’t have much to tie him there anymore.”_

_“And you, Mister Gibbs?”_

_“Curious, mostly,” Gibbs answered._

_“You got family back East, then?”  Fowler asked._

_Gibbs nodded.  “Stillwater, Pennsylvania.  Little mining town.  Not much there save my mother and sister.  I think about them from time to time.”_

_It wasn’t a lie.  Katie Ann and his adopted family were his only family now, even if he couldn’t go back to them.  He worried about them, though, especially with the rumors of unrest he’d been hearing in recent months.  There was a war coming as sure as the sun was hot, and Gibbs could feel it in his gut.  He didn’t know when, but sometime soon, something was going to give.  The North was too self-righteous and smug, the South too set in their ways.  Get the right politicians into office and it would be a recipe for disaster.  And every newcomer to the region had an opinion about all of it._

_“Well, you’re out of luck, Gibbs,” Fowler said gruffly.  “I haven’t heard anything except the same old story.”_

_Gibbs grunted softly, handed over a purse full of money to settle his debt with the store, thanked him, and set about to unhitch his horse._

_*****_

_The three cowboys rode into town, headed straight for the local saloon._

_The leader of the gang, riding a little bit ahead of the other two, was a man who went by the name of Haloran Anderson.  His partners in crime, quite literally, were the rather dunder headed McNally brothers, Joe and Griff.  Haloran couldn’t stand them in general and the only thing which kept him from killing them was their usefulness as people to boss around.  They did whatever he said, and that was the only reason the were still alive.  That, and they didn’t ask questions.  That made the occasional beheading all the easier._

_The shit hole of a town had grown up a little bit since the last time they had ridden through it.  There were more upstanding citizens walking the dusty little street running through the middle of the town.  Up the hill on the left, he could see the tall, thin steeple of the recently erected church, with its white-washed cross on the top and just as lily white parishioners.  A couple of them stood talking to the man he assumed was the preacher._

_Over by a cluster of ratty old trees, a school house had sprung up.  Haloran could see the school marm herding the brats she taught back into the building.  A man with graying hair was walking away from her, towards a wagon ladden with supplies.  His eyes narrowed as he watched the man swing up onto the seat of the wagon and felt the familiar buzz in the back of his mind.  If the other Immortal had noticed Haloran, however, he did not let on.  He just snapped his reigns and turned his horse away from the school house._

_“Hey, there, Hal!”  Griff McNally called out, drawing the outlaw’s attention away from the school marm altogether.  The ijit pointed in the direction of the local saloon, where his equally stupid brother was already headed.  Haloran swore under his breath, cursing the fate which had led him to those two, and followed them reluctantly to the bar.  Maybe he’d ask around… find out where the gray haired man with the well-stocked wagon was headed._

_Or maybe he’d pay the school marm a visit once her class had all gone home. That might be so much more fun, he thought as a smirk formed on his face._

_******_

_Their camp was almost a full day’s ride back into the mountains and by the time Gibbs had returned, his partner, Matthew Leonard, had already retired to the cave they’d turned into a make-shift hovel.  The fire he’d lit just inside the entrance of the cave was all Gibbs could see when he brought the horse and wagon to a stop.  He unhitched the horse, unconcerned by the darkness, and walked the it over to their small coral.  It was about as makeshift as the home, if home was what you wanted to call it.  It was a mining camp, set up right in the middle of their claim._

_Not that the two men did much mining in all actuality.  The Saw Bones had brought him up into the mountains, first and foremost, to train Gibbs in the arts of sword fighting.  They trained for hours each morning and in the evenings until dark, putting only minimal effort into actually mining for gold.  “I don’t need it, not for myself.  Been a doctor longer than I can remember, maybe.”  What gold they did find was kept hidden in the back of the cave, until such a time as they needed a bag to exchange for goods or services.  Gibbs imagined that if they ever truly “struck it rich,” then they would be through with this ruse and onto something else.  Or else one of them would have to ride into Wells Fargo and make a deposit into the bank._

_Up there in the mountains, however, they had no real need for money beyond the provisions they couldn’t hunt for themselves.  Gibbs was becoming proficient at scouting out small game.  And thanks to Leonard, they had a sort of give-and-take relationship with one of the local native tribes.  Skins they didn’t use after their hunt could be bartered for information, weapons, and other things.  They had, actually, spent their first year in California living with the nearest tribe, learning from them everything they could about the lay of the land, the animals, the vegetation, and the other tribes.  Gibbs had learned to communicate with them via sign language and then in their native tongue.  He also learned how to hunt.  His father had fancied himself a hunter, but it was nothing like what he had learned from the Indians.  Not even close to the same thing._

_“You’re late,” a voice called from the mouth of the cave and Gibbs turned around to face it.  “Everything go okay?”_

_Gibbs shrugged and started unloading the wagon.  “No different than usual.  Both Fowler and his son wanted to wag their jaws about everything they could.  No news about the war, but I’m sure it’s coming all the same.”_

_Leonard snorted and left the cave to help bring the provisions in.  “You keep saying that, son.  Don’t see how you know, though.”_

_“I just feel it, Saw Bones.  I feel it in my bones, you might say.  There’s unrest in the air sure as there’s clouds on the horizon.”  There were clouds on the horizon that night, as it happened.  It would mean a little rain, but not much._

_“You worry too much, Leroy Gibbs,” the army doctor told him.  “If there is war, it will pass us by.  We have other things to worry about.  The Gathering–”_

_“I know, I know,” Gibbs interrupted.  “The Gathering, there can be only one… yada yada.  It’s still my world, Saw Bones.  I can’t help but be worried about what’s going to happen.  My mother and sister will be in the middle of it.”_

_“And I will tell you the same as I always have.  Son, you need to let go of them, and do it now.  You can’t train with me if you’re going to have your head in their mortal problems.  Later… that’s what comes later, but I can’t in good conscience let you walk away without preparing you right.  It would not be fair to you.”_

_As they bickered, they slowly unloaded the wagon until Leonard came to the school teacher’s basket.  “Spoke to Alice, did you?” he asked, peaking under the blanket covering to look inside.  The smell of day old bread, apple pie and some kind of turnover filled his nostrils and he smiled, then tucked the blanket back into place._

_“There’s canned stuffs, too,” Gibbs commented.  “She saved some of her best for you.”_

_“For us, you mean,” Leonard corrected him._

_Gibbs shrugged.  “She might have given them to me, Matthew, but it’s you she’s feeding and no one is fooling themselves about that.  Even Fowler had a word or two to say about it.  The lady is sweet on you.”_

_The Saw Bones was quiet after that, his expression softening as he thought of the comely young – relatively young, compared to himself that is – school marm.  He sighed and shook his head.  “She’s something special to be sure, Gibbs, that’s to be sure.”_

_Gibbs smirked and picked up the last crate of supplies, carrying it to the back of the cave.  His friend had better hurry up and admit his feelings for the teacher before she admitted them for him.  She was a sweet girl, to be sure, but Gibbs thought she’d surprise everyone if given half the chance.  He did not see a shrinking violet when he looked at the widow woman at all; there was steel in the teacher, no doubt about it._

_“What’s that look for?”  the doctor asked, almost crossly.  “You’re not getting any thoughts are you now, son?”_

_“None at all, my friend, none at all.  Least ways, none you haven’t thought yourself, I’m sure.”_

_“Those are starting to sound like fighting words, Leroy.  You want to reconsider them any?”  Leonard asked, his hands straying to the inside of his beat up coat._

_“Not when you just proved my point much better than I could myself,” Gibbs responded glibly, dropping the last crate on the floor and moving to the fire where his partner had been cooking up what looked like a decent rabbit stew.  “You love her, Matt.  There’s no harm in that, is there?”_

_“You don’t understand, Leroy,” Matt said with a sigh.  “She’s better off without me, and yet I can’t seem to stay away from her.”_

_“You’re right.  I don’t understand, and I don’t rightly suppose you’re going to spell it out any clearer than that.”  Gibbs took up his tin bowl and filled it with stew, sitting down close to the fire and tucking his legs under him.   Without another word, he began to eat.  He did not understand what his friend was trying to tell him.  Why was Alice better off without him, when it was so plain to see that they loved one another?  He understood it all the less when Matt brought the basket of baked goods over to the fire and sat down beside him, pulling out a loaf of the bread and breaking it between them with a smile on his face which spoke volumes upon volumes.  There was a lot he did not know, that was certain, about being an Immortal.  Matt said he needed to let go of his past, of his family, and look towards his training.  Bringing him up in the mountains was supposed to be for training, but also for isolating him.  He found it torture, not being able to contact Katie Ann or his mother.  She was getting on in age now.  They both were.  He worried about them so much now, because he’d always assumed he would be the one to care for them in their old age.  Now who would do that?  Who would care for the land?  Who would keep them safe if war came?  The old Saw Bones said that none of this mattered right now. His training mattered, the only thing that did.  But he also said that Alice Sheffield was better off without him, and Gibbs knew he sure as hell didn’t mean that, either.  Not while he sat there eating her bread like it was the finest ambrosia. _

*****

[Present Day, Norfolk]

Haloran Anderson left the airport, totally disgusted with the amount of security there was just to get in and out of the country.  It had been a long time since he’d set foot in the United States of America and he was already beginning to regret it.  First, he couldn’t bring his tequila on the plane.  Then, they wouldn’t let him smoke.  Heck, they all but x-rayed him just to let him inside the damn airport!  Hadn’t found his sword, though, and that was a very good thing.  He was going to need it on this trip.  No doubts about that.  He was going to pay a visit to an old friend.

But first, he needed to set up a base camp and find a local watering hole.  That is, get himself a hotel room and find the nearest bar.

The hotel, when he found one with the right price, was across town from the airport in a grungy little section of the city where nobody cared that he paid in cash and immediately put up a Do Not Disturb sign on the door.

The watering hole was a bar not two streets down from the hotel, and it was perfect for his plans.  Dim lighting, lots of bar flies of all kinds.  Some of them were sailors, from the looks of their hair cuts.  In this town, there were lots of those and that was why he was here, wasn’t it?  But there was no sense in getting ahead of himself just yet.  He had time to make his move, time to lay just the right trap for his old friend Gibbs.

Might as well enjoy himself while he was waiting, too, he thought as he watched a pretty young thing waiting tables at the other end of the room.  Tight jeans on women – it was one thing he could never decide upon.  It was a tempting view, to be sure, but they made access so much more difficult than a skirt.  Then again, he’d always gotten off on the struggle.

*****

_[Sweetwater, a year later]_

_The school teacher screamed again, and Haloran clamped his left hand over her mouth while he pinned her down with this body, his pistol digging into her leg just to give her a taste._

_“Now aren’t you the feisty little thing?” he said with a laugh, using his right hand to push her skirts out of the way.  “I love a woman with spirit.”_

_Alice bit at the hand covering her mouth, hard enough to draw blood._

_He started to laugh again, but stopped when the door behind them crashed open, broken down under the weight of the two men who had been following him.  Not that he had expected any less.  He’d taken their woman, after all._

_“Let her go, Haloran!”  Leonard cried out, pulling out his sword.  Beside him, Gibbs also pulled his sword._

_Haloran roared with anger and pushed the school marm aside.  “Tell the whelp to stand aside, Leonard!  You know the rules!”_

_“He’s right, Gibbs.  Stand down.”_

_“He could kill you!”  Gibbs stated, angrily.  He wanted a piece of the outlaw himself, if truth be told, and it rankled him that being an Immortal had rules._

_“Chance I’ll have to take, son.  You cannot interfere once we start fighting, you know that!  Just stick to the plan, and get Allie out once we start fighting.  Get as far away as you can.”_

_“Good advice!  You’d better be half way to Mexico City before I get done with your pal, because you’re next!”  Haloran was already circling the Saw Bones, swishing his sword through the air in an effort to look intimidating.  Alice had scrambled across the dirt floor to his side and Gibbs knelt next to her, wrapped his arms around her and they fled.  He could feel her shaking as he pulled her onto his horse._

_*****_

_“Miss Alice? Are you alright?  Did he hurt you?”  Gibbs asked over the thunder of the horse’s hooves, leaning in close to her.  Alice shook her head again and again, but her only answer was her repeated sobs.  Those eventually muffled the further they rode, until at last, Gibbs turned his horse towards the mountains.  Haloran didn’t know where their claim was.  He wouldn’t come looking for Alice there.  Or him, he thought in the back of his mind.  Haloran was like him and the Saw Bones.  He was an Immortal, and he wasn’t really after Alice at all.  She had been a pawn to get at Matt, because Matt loved her._

_That love made him vulnerable._

_That thought echoed in Gibbs’ mind, making him realize at once what the Saw Bones had been saying all this time about his family back East.  He had to forget them because other Immortals would come for his head and use them as a means to get to him.  Bait to lure him in.  Like he and Matt had gone running when the Fowler boy came with the news that Alice had been taken.  It was no secret that Matt cared for her, not to anyone with eyes, and for a brief moment, Gibbs was shamed in the part he’d played in throwing them together.  Forever, he’d thought, shouldn’t have to be so damn lonely.  The Saw Bones had only recently begun to change his surly tune, admitting his fondness for Alice, taking steps to court her like a proper gentleman ought to do._

_That was when Haloran Anderson and his gang had come into the picture.  He was the only Immortal other than Leonard who Gibbs had ever met, and they had disliked each other on sight.  But Matt… it was more like hatred, pure and simple.  Haloran looked at Alice and Matt saw red.  He’d run Haloran out of town last year, but he’d told Gibbs the bandit would be back.  Like a bad penny.  And sure enough, not even a full year had passed and he was back.  Took Alice from the school house after her last student had left._

_He was calling Matt out._

_“You’re certain you’re alright, Miss Alice?”  Gibbs asked when he helped her from the horse at last.  She was timid as she took his hand and let him lead her up to the cave._

_“That man did not hurt me, Leroy,” she proclaimed, lifting her chin in manner which made Gibbs proud to hear.  “But he said… such awful things.  Such outrageous things, Leroy!  I believe him truly to be a madman.”_

_“Yes ma’am, I believe he is,” Gibbs answered._

_“Do you think that Matthew will defeat him?” she asked softly, her concern, her fear, her love for the other Immortal touching at Gibbs’ heart.  She did not know what they were or what was in store for one of the two swordsmen that night._

_“I pray it be so, Alice,” was all Gibbs could say._

__******

[Present Day, Virginia Beach]

Haloran walked down the trail at a leisurely pace, the very picture of a man on a casual stroll through First Landing State Park.  It was quiet, set away from the sounds of the highway with all the cars speeding along.  The world was in such a hurry these days, so hell bent on getting to where they were going as quickly as possible.  What they didn’t realize was that they weren’t going anywhere.  Fast or slow, human kind was just racing towards a big, fat nothing.  Worthless, the whole race of them, and they didn’t even know it.

The park, a tangled mess of nature trails which stretched into nineteen miles of black water swamp and Spanish moss, was the complete antithesis of the world breezing past them on Shore Drive.  It was an oasis, set apart from the rest of world where time had no place or meaning.  You could hide out here for hours… or days… and not be found by any other living soul.

The brochure Haloran had picked up from the visitor center boasted that the swamps had once been a popular hide out for pirates who came to the eastern coast of North America seeking to outrun the British authorities who were gunning for them.  They would leave their ships and go deep into the swamps for sanctuary.  It was fitting that he come here now, deep into the trees and mire, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the world.

He wasn’t alone, of course.  Not entirely.  Every once in a while, someone would cross his path.  Joggers, hikers, nature lovers, campers and photographers out to catch a glimpse of something wonderful.  Some of the people running past, especially that morning, wore dark blue shorts and yellow shirts emblazoned with the words: US NAVY, and that interested Haloran Anderson very much.  Very, very much.  While he preferred the comforts of his hotel room to the cold night air, it was a creature comfort he could easily forgo if doing so furthered his cause.  And there were, as he had noted on the brochure – now crumpled up in his pocket – cabins here on the park grounds which were for rent throughout the year.  He could rent one, easily, or simply ‘acquire one’ as needed.  No need to pay for one since he already paid up front for the hotel.  It was already too much of a paper trail for his liking.  Too much of a connection to his current persona.  He supposed he could pay for the cabin in cash, which he happened to have plenty of on hand for just such occasions.

Yes, he thought as he changed directions, making his back up the trail he’d been following to the beginnings of the park where the cabins were located.  The isolation which a cabin would provide would be perfect for his needs.  Especially if it provided him easy access to those he wished to monitor at close range.    Those whom his old friend had sworn to protect with his life.

Or with his head.

*****

“You coming, Tony?”

McGee asked as he switched off his computer for the night.  It was late for all of them, but they’d just put another case to bed, and there had been paperwork to get finished.  That was the one thing about working for Gibbs that McGee had never really got used to – the endless paperwork after an arrest.  Tony, the former cop, was another story.  Sure, he often tried to pawn it off on McGee or Ziva… and even Kate back when she was still alive… but he usually would end up doing it all on his own, anyway.

Right now, he was still sitting at his desk, intent on whatever was on his computer screen.

“What?”  Tony asked, scarcely looking up at the other agent.  “Did you say something, McGee?”

“He said,” came a voice behind them both and Gibbs appeared, as he often did, at Tony’s back with no prior warning other than his voice, and no sooner where the words out of his mouth, Gibbs’ hand connected with the back of his head.  “Quit messing around on YouTube and come on, DiNozzo!  You need a ride home tonight and in about one minute, that ride is leaving without you!”

“Car still in the shop. then?”  McGee asked, but Tony shushed him, holding out one finger and waving it between McGee and Gibbs as if he was unsure of which one to address first.

“Yes, it is, McGee,” he said at last and then rounded on Gibbs.  “Did you just say ‘YouTube’?  You know what YouTube is?”  His expression was priceless.

Gibbs shot him a look and pointed to the computer screen where Tony had paused a trailer for the new Doctor Who in mid-stream.  “I can read, DiNozzo.  I don’t need to know what it is.  Now, hustle it up!  It isn’t getting any earlier and we’re still here.”

“On it, Boss!” Tony said and hurried to close out the many open windows he had.  Gibbs chuckled softly, sharing a smile at McGee, who looked on in amusement and finally shook his head.

“I gotta be going, too, Boss.”  McGee said, grabbing his coat and shrugging it on.  “Good night, Tony,” he added as he started to walk away.

“See you tomorrow, McGeek,” Tony said, giving his partner a parting shot before shutting down his computer and grabbing his own coat.  “Sorry, Boss,” he added, looking sheepish.  “I guess I lost track of time.”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at him.  “All that paperwork must have been engrossing,” was all he said as he turned and started walking towards the doors.  Tony fell easily into step beside him, tossing the coat over his shoulder.  Gibbs surveyed Tony’s thin shirt and shook his head.  “Ought to put it on, you know.  Cold snap came in while we were busy.”

“Another one?”  Tony groaned.  “This has got to be the worst winter here, ever,” he complained, but he pulled his coat on by the time they reached the doors.  The guard on duty said good night to them both, commenting that he hoped Tony’s car was out of the shop soon.  Tony winced and thanked the man, with an additional “Me, too.”

“So you don’t like me taking you home, DiNozzo?”  Gibbs asked, though he was smiling crookedly as he said it.  He knew that Tony missed his car, which had been in the shop for far too long following a fender bender in Virginia Beach a couple weeks ago.

“Not at all, Boss,” Tony replied, not missing a beat.  They were almost to Gibbs’ car now, and far from prying eyes or listening ears.  “And who’s home are you taking me to tonight?” he added with a mischievous expression on his face.

Gibbs stopped in front of his car, jostling the contents of his pockets as he reached for his keys.  “Where would you like to go?” he asked, returning the smile as he opened the driver’s side door and slid behind the wheel.

Tony followed suit, reaching for his seat belt as the passenger door closed, totally concealing their conversation from anyone else.  “I dunno, Boss,” he said, making it sound like he was really mulling it over.  “I think my apartment is much more comfortable than your basement, but…”

“…but I’ve got a couple of steaks waiting to go on the grill and your favorite beer already in the fridge?”  Gibbs countered with a little grin.

“You do?”  Tony asked, enthused at the project.

“It is Friday night, Tony,” answered Gibbs, reaching across the center island to pat Tony on the knee.  His hand rested there, squeezing meaningfully before turning to the steering wheel so he could back out of his parking space.

“So it is, Boss.  I’d almost forgotten.”

No he hadn’t, and they both knew it.  Tony tried to downplay the importance of the weekend to him.  It wasn’t as if they ever did anything special, or out of their normal routine.  Tony came over and Gibbs made dinner.  A real dinner, not a pretentious dinner in an equally pretentious restaurant.  They would eat and talk, drink beer and talk, or sometimes they wouldn’t talk at all.  Until Gibbs met Anthony DiNozzo Sr. earlier this year, he had often struggled with the things Tony kept from others.  But he had opened up to Gibbs where he hadn’t Kate, McGee, or Ziva.  Abby alone had come the closest to seeing what Gibbs saw in the (formerly) rich man’s son.  Wealthy families kept secrets all the time.  DiNozzo Senior’s secret was his utter lack of money; his son’s was his need to feel wanted.  By someone, by anyone.  To have the approval of the people he cared for and admired the most.

He’d bonded most with Gibbs, first as an employee, then as a friend, and then… well, the attraction between them had always been there, lingering just below the surface for both of them.  Tony craved affection and Gibbs hadn’t trusted his heart, truly, with anyone since Shannon passed away more than sixty years ago.  She’d lived a long and full life, along side him for most of it.  Together they’d seen Kelly grow up and fall in love and get married.

Then he’d buried them both and watched Kelly’s son – whom he’d raised as his own – grow up to fight in WWII.

Gibbs shook his head to push away those bittersweet memories.  He and Jackson Gibbs had their differences, the most prominent of which was the boy’s ire that, at some point, he would seemingly be the same age, if not older than his ‘grandfather.’  But he’d loved Stillwater and when the time came, Gibbs had made the decision to leave.  He’d gone to say good-bye to his Mother and Katie Ann, and left town.  A few months later, with the help of a friend of a friend, he was a soldier again – this time as a Marine.

When he’d visited earlier this year, one of the things they’d discussed was Tony.  Jack didn’t care that his grandfather had a mostly-live in boyfriend who was centuries younger than him.  What he took offense to was that Gibbs hadn’t told Tony the truth yet.  Glancing at the young man in the passenger seat next to him, Gibbs was begininng to wonder why he hadn’t been able to give his grandson a decent response to his accusations.  Tony had this way about him.  Yes, he was young and sometimes infuriating, but over the years Gibbs had watched him mature into a good man.  A good man whom he had slowly come to love.

Love.

It was a dangerous word in his circles.  Immortals who fell in love with the mortals they lived among put themselves out there in more ways than other people could fathom.  There was the risk of getting your heart crushed, to be sure.  The risk of breaking your own heart when they died and you never would.  It never got any better, no matter how many times you went through it.  It could turn a heart cold and brittle, leery of new relationships and afraid to trust.  Afraid, also, that their love was a weakness which some other Immortal would put to their own dubious uses.

More and more since Jackson’s visit, Gibbs had found himself thinking of the old Saw Bones, Matthew Leonard, and his wife Alice.  Alice had been marked by a head hunter, and it was only after one narrow escape that they finally declared their love for each other.  Gibbs remembered as vividly as if it were yesterday, waiting in the cave with a very frightened Alice while Matt fought the outlaw who’d kidnapped her.  When he returned at last, Leonard had told them how their duel had been interrupted by the local sheriff and the pose which had formed to take the bandit in.  Haloran spent a a month in the pokey before being hung.  The night his body mysteriously vanished, Leonard brought Alice out to their cave and told her the truth about who he was, what they were – everything – and then they went on the lamb.  Hid out in the mountains for years until the head hunter caught with them.  Leonard had thought he was getting close, so he’d sent for Gibbs, but by the time Gibbs had arrived at their cabin, all he found was the bodies.

Not long after, he’d headed off to the Great War and met Jimmy Healy… and Shannon.

“Boss?  Jethro?”  Tony’s voice cut through Gibbs musings, openly concerned.  “You okay?”

“What?  Yes, of course I’m okay, Tony.  Do I look like I’m anything other than okay?”  Gibbs asked quickly.

“No – yeah – I guess so,”  Tony fumbled with his answer.  “But you were kind of zoned out there for a while and … you missed the turn.”

“What?”  Gibbs turned his eyes to the road and scanned the passing buildings and street signs to get his bearings.  He had, in fact, missed the turn he had been making every day since his last divorce.  “Damnit, DiNozzo!  Why didn’t you say something?”  Gibbs swung the car around at the closest intersection, making the u-turn to get them back on track.  Beside him, Tony clutched the door handle, a look of surprise on his face.

“We … couldn’t have gone down another street?”  he asked in a shaky voice.

Gibbs grunted and said nothing more about it until he pulled into his own driveway.  He had slipped up.  It was a little thing, but it was still a slip up all the same.  Was it falling in love that had caused it?  He didn’t know.  He didn’t remember making those kinds of mistakes when Shannon was alive.  Then again, the world was different back then.  In the back of his mind, he could hear her thick Irish brogue asking him if he was a changeling… and begging him on her death bed to love again.  _“You promise me, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, man who will live forever, that you won’t wall your heart up once I close my eyes.  You’ve so much to give someone, some day.”_

__Shannon would have loved Tony.  He would have made her laugh with his antics and his movie quotes.  She would have insisted he invite Tony home for dinner every Friday and Sunday, kind of like Gibbs was already doing.  She would have taken him in, just as she had Gibbs himself.  No need to fool himself there – he may have been sent to take care of her, but it was Shannon who had taken him in.  The wayward soldier who hadn’t a home.

“Home at last!”  Tony said, bouncing back from Gibbs’ weird behavior without so much as a moment’s hesitation.  He had the door opened almost right away, pausing as he got out to look back at Gibbs.  “You coming?”  he asked.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Gibbs said, and pulled the keys from the ignition.  He thought of Gibbs’ home as his own.  The uneasy feeling he’d been having since his thoughts strayed to Matt and Alice insisted that was a bad thing.  Shannon’s soft voice in his mind’s ear said, _“How sweet, Jethro.  You really are suited to each other.” _

Gibbs didn’t know which one to agree with, however.  They were both part of what he routinely called ‘his gut’ – his instinct to survive and his conscience all rolled into one.  It had served him well in the years which had stretched between Shannon’s death and now, but right now, it wasn’t serving him very well at all. It was beginning to look like he was going to have to wing it where Anthony DiNozzo was concerned.  Gibbs didn’t like flying by the seat of his pants, though.  He liked a certain amount of forethought before he made his move.  Trouble was, Tony was the ‘fly by the seat of your pants’ type of guy, and that, more than anything, was throwing him off his game.

Maybe the game needed some new rules.

******

“So do I get to know what’s going on?”

Tony asked the question around a mouthful of potatoes cleared away by a generous swallow of his beer.  Custom said Gibbs should give him a solid head slap for talking with his mouth full, but Gibbs didn’t necessarily want to risk Tony choking to death before he could administer the Heimlich because he’d been eating when the well-deserved blow was delivered.

Instead, Gibbs glared at Tony and pointedly swallowed the bit of food he was eating before answering Tony’s question with one of his own.  “Why do you think something is going on, Tony?”  He set down his fork, as if he were intending to give Tony’s answer the full weight of his attention now that the subject had been broached.

“I, um… you, ah…”  Tony stammered for a moment or two, looking awkwardly adorable.

“Tony,” Gibbs prompted, raising an eyebrow before his lips turned up into an amused smile, and he placed a hand over top of the other man’s.  He also repeated his question, though.  “What makes you think something is going on that you need to know about?”

Tony coughed, composing himself, and said sheepishly, “I dunno.  You just… seemed a million miles away tonight.”

“I see,” Gibbs said.  “Like I had something on my mind?”

“Yeah, something like that, actually.  I thought… I don’t know… I was worried maybe… ”

Tony was floundering again and Gibbs’ smile broadened.  He chuckled softly and patted Tony’s hand.  “Eat your dinner, DiNozzo, and put your mind at ease.  The only thing I have been thinking about tonight is you.”

Tony looked relieved at the good news.  The worried expression dropped from his face and he began to eat with the hearty appetite that Gibbs had come to expect from him.  Watching him, however, gave the Immortal a twinge of conscience which he rarely felt, ever, when it came to the subterfuges which helped keep his Immortality a secret.  Granted, he wasn’t really lying, saying the things he had said.  He had, in fact, been thinking about his lover, just not the way he might have led the younger man to believe.  Not that he hadn’t given extensive thought to _that_, as well.  He had, no doubts about that.

“And now you’re staring at me,” his companion said, only it came out as, ‘ah nowm, yur stawin amma,’ because of the food in his mouth.

“DiNozzo!”  Gibbs exclaimed and did smack him on the back of the head this time.  “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to speak with your mouth full?”

“Yeah,” was the first thing Tony said once he finally swallowed his food.  He did his best to look shamed as he spoke, but the attempt failed utterly once the rest of the sentence tumbled from his lips.  “But that was the step mom I didn’t like very well, and she didn’t like me either, so I kind of tuned out most of the things she said.”

Gibbs laughed again.  “Shoulda seen that one a mile away,” he chided himself.

“She had other gems, too,” Tony went on in an animated way.  “Like ‘keep making that face and it’ll freeze that way’ and ‘you’re going to eat every bite of that, Anthony.  There are children starving in Africa, you know.’  For the longest time, I wondered what children in Africa had to do with my liver and onions.”

“And you didn’t like her because of the liver and onions?”  Gibbs asked.

Tony shook his head.  “Secretly, I didn’t really mind it so much, but she was really strict and she hated me.  I mean, HATED me.  She was always telling me what to do, how to dress, who I could talk to, who I could be friends with, yada yada yada…”  He trailed off sarcastically and sighed.  “It was a long time ago, Gibbs.  Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know, Tony.  You’re the one who brought it up.”  But he did know exactly why it was important to Tony.  He had spent his life shuffled from stepmother to stepmother without much thought for what he needed or wanted.  He remembered this one because, as Gibbs well knew, most of the others barely noticed Tony was even there.  All they saw was his father’s money and the snot-nosed kid who came along with it.

That snot-nosed kid had grown up into a charming young man who had a heart as big as his smile.  None of them ever came close to knowing that person half as well as Gibbs had.  Not even his own father knew the real Tony DiNozzo.

“I suppose so, but only because you were staring at me.”  Tony gave a little shrug and they both went back to eating.  After a few minutes, he looked up at Gibbs again and said, “not that I mind you staring at me like that.  I always get a thrill when I think about it… your eyes on me, silently working me over.  I always wonder what you’re thinking about then, you know?”

“If I think about pulling you into the elevator and having my wicked way with you, you mean?”  Gibbs asked with a smirk and one perfectly lifted eyebrow.

Tony blushed and averted his eyes for the briefest of moments.  “That thought had crossed my mind a couple of times, yeah.”  He paused and then added a half hopeful, half nervous, “Has it?  Crossed your mind, too, I mean?”

It had, but it wouldn’t be professional of Gibbs at all, and as jobs went, he liked this one.  He’d had it for awhile now, and even though it wasn’t really the soldier’s job he’d been used to doing in all the decades before, it was as close as it came.  He was protecting and serving his country by protecting the service members who could still go to war for their country.  He wouldn’t screw that up for a roll in the proverbial hay.  Or a romp in the elevator, as the case might be.

But think about it?  Oh hell yes, Gibbs had definitely thought about it.  He thought about it every time they entered the elevator together.  His office, he often referred to it as, had been the staging area for many a fantasy involving himself and his handsome young co-worker.  “I might have,” he answered Tony, truthfully, though he had a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.  “Once or twice.”

“Only twice?”  Tony echoed, his voice turning from serious into a light tease.

He didn’t ask why they hadn’t ever tried it, though.  Tony had the knack for knowing, sometimes.  Sure, he played the devil may care playboy often enough.  The rich boy with the eye for the ladies.  But he had a deeper side, one which he often showed only to Gibbs, and only when they were alone.  Gibbs often felt privileged to know this side of Tony, and often, he coveted it.  This was his Tony, the one who had stepped up to run the team when amnesia had driven him out of the country he loved and onto the beach in Mexico.

“Maybe more than twice,”  Gibbs said, making it sound like a promise.  Not a promise of something they would actually do – for the sake of work protocols and keeping their involvement as under wraps as it was going to get with Abby and Ducky both in the know – but a promise that he would always think of Tony pushed up against the wall of the elevator, of their bodies colliding together in a rush of passion and desire, their erections straining to get out, pressing against their pants, hot and hard, and oh so good.  Oh yes, Gibbs thought with a devious smile, he would think about that particular scenario many, many more times.

*****

“Yes, Director,”  Gibbs said, trying his best not to betray the tiredness in his voice.  It was early, but as he was about to say aloud, “Crime knows no clock.  Don’t worry about calling anyone else; I’ll have my team there ASAP.”

Vance thanked him gruffly, if thanking was what you wanted to call it.  He hung up before Gibbs could examine his expression any further.  Snapping his cellphone shut, Gibbs rolled over and smacked Tony on one bare buttock which was exposed due to a sheet which had slipped down off his body while he slept.  “Rise and shine, Tony!” he sing-songed.

Tony groaned, and rolled over all the way, mumbling, “doanwannagotaschoolnowboss,” into his pillow.

“DiNozzo!”  Gibbs barked, and this time Tony jumped about a foot into the air, falling off the bed as he did so.  Gibbs chuckled and reached over to give him a hand.  “Quit goofin’ around, DiNozzo.  We have to go meet a dead petty officer in First Landing State Park.”

“On Sunday?”  Tony whined as he took the offered hand and stood up.  “Don’t people realize it’s the weekend?”

“‘Fraid not, Tony.  Sorry to mess with your beauty sleep.”  Gibbs let his eyes travel over Tony’s body in a slow crawl until Tony blushed and then stood up.  He started to dress, not waiting to see if Tony was doing the same.  He was, of course, having gone into spare room where he’d started keeping a few changes of work clothes for occasions just like this one.  It happened more often than it didn’t anymore, since they had redefined their relationship.  Tony would be there on the weekend and a call would come in.  The first couple of times, Gibbs had taken him all the way back to his own apartment, dropped him off and went on without him, but with Tony’s car in the shop, that wasn’t actually an option.  So Tony brought over a few things to wear, just in case.

*****

“Whattya got for us?”  Gibbs asked the Virgina Beach police officer who was guarding the body while she waited for NCIS to show up.  The body was sprawled out on the path in the middle of one of the trails, her wallet and military ID were – conveniently – on the ground near her body.  She was wearing a dark blue sweat suit with the words ‘NAVY’ in bright yellow.

“Her name is Alicia Haynes,” the officer stated, glancing back at the body.  “Her id was right there on the ground,” she said, and it sounded like an excuse.  Gibbs surmised that she’d picked it up to read before calling NCIS.

“How was the body found?”  he asked next.  Behind him, Ducky and Palmer were arriving with a gurney.  Tony, McGee and Ziva were already canvasing the area surrounding the trail.  There were no other people on the trail with them, which meant no witnesses.

“Someone called an anonymous tip into 911, actually,” the officer replied.

“And when you showed up, this is what you found?”  Gibbs asked, a little more crossly now.  It was too neat, from the anonymous tip to the identification laid out where everyone could see it.  His gut told him that someone wanted this body found, despite the remote location of the drop.

His suspicions were confirmed when Tony and McGee returned to the trail shaking their heads.  “Nothing out of the ordinary, Boss,”  Tony said, answering the unspoken question Gibbs’ eyes had asked when he came to a stop next to the police officer.

“No signs of a struggle, of the body being dragged, no blood either,” McGee elaborated.  “Site is clean, from the looks of things.”

“No, McGee!  The site is most definitely not clean.  There’s a dead body right in the middle of it!”  Gibbs barked.  “Find something, or start tagging everything.”

“Everything?”  McGee looked around.  The trail was nothing but dirt, bark, dead leaves left over from autumn and, thanks to the rain they’d had right before the most recent cold snap, frozen mud.

“Everything,” Gibbs repeated sternly and walked over to talk to Ducky.

******

“The killing blow,” Ducky was saying as he leaned over the body of the young woman on his autopsy table, “was a single thrust through the heart with a sharp, pointed instrument.  It would have been rather like this,” he said, pausing in his commentary to spin around and jab outward with his arm, his scalpel pointed outward at his assistant, who’s eyes widened in sudden surprise.

“I didn’t know you fenced, Dr. Mallard,” Jimmy commented, looking summarily impressed by Ducky’s moves.

“Not since my days at Edinburgh, Mr. Palmer,” Ducky responded, straightening up adjusting his glasses as he turned back to the body of Alicia Haynes.  “It is a fantastic sport and can be very stimulating as far as exercise is concerned.  It takes great skill and cat-like reflexes to wield a sword with any kind of precision.”

“And a lot of practice,” Gibbs interjected as he walked into Autopsy with a cup of coffee in hand.

“Ah, Jethro,” Ducky said, not looking up at first.  “Were your ears burning again?  I was just about about to have Mr. Palmer call you.”

“You were?” Jimmy asked.

“Yes, of course, I was, Mr. Palmer,”  was Ducky’s response as he waved Gibbs over to the table.  “She was not shot, Jethro, but stabbed, with what I presume to be some kind of sword or epee.”

Gibbs was silent for a long moment and then commented, “A nature trail makes a strange place for a fencing lesson, don’t you think?”

“Indeed it does, Jethro.  Indeed it does,” was Ducky’s weary comeback.

******

The Cape Henry trail, the longest of the First Landing trails, extended almost six miles from the northern border of the park to it’s southern most entrance. It was accessible from the main boardwalk in Virginia Beach and was the most widely used of the park’s trails.  Hundreds of pedestrians and cyclists alike traversed the trail every day, going to and from the beaches.  It came as no surprise, at least not to Gibbs, that the body of a second park victim was found by a cyclist out enjoying the warm weather.

The body, that of a corpsmen – Matthew Graham – who worked at the Boone Branch Medical Clinic on the newly renamed Joint Expeditionary Base Little Creek, was found when John Tyler ran him over with his bicycle while turning a blind corner of the trail.  Gibbs could see the fresh skid marks in the dirt where Tyler had made an attempt to stop to keep from hitting the body, much to his own failure and mortification.  Tyler now stood near his bike, recounting the experience to Ziva and Tony, while McGee took pictures of the crime scene.

Like before, Graham’s ID card and wallet were out on the ground in plain sight, waiting for someone to come along and find them.  Also like before, the police on the scene noted that nothing was taken, except for the life of the poor unsuspecting corpsmen.

Gibbs didn’t have to ask Ducky what he thought he would find when he cut into the body to know exactly what would be found.  The fatal wounds of the two bodies were going to match.

“They’re related, aren’t they, Jethro?”  Ducky asked later, when Gibbs finally joined him in the autopsy room.  Gibbs looked around, making a note that Palmer was out of the room.  “I sent Mr. Palmer up to Abby to get some results on a test,” Ducky added.

Gibbs nodded and sighed.  “They’re related, alright, Duck.  I wish I knew how just yet, but they are.”

“It isn’t… one of your kind, is it, Jethro?”  Ducky asked.  It wouldn’t be the first time an Immortal had killed mortals.  Nor would it be the last, at least not while the Gathering continued.

“That I can’t tell you, Ducky.  I wasn’t aware anyone of _my kind_ was in the area.  I don’t suppose you’d have any news from your people about that, would you?”  Gibbs fixed his old friend with a keen look.  It had been years ago that Gibbs had discovered the truth about Donald “Ducky” Mallard.  The medical examiner was a Watcher, a member of the secret society meant to chronicle the lives and battles of the Immortals.  Ducky was his, as it turned out, and had been for some time now.  Working together made keeping tabs on Gibbs very easy.  Becoming friends had been something of an accident.

“No, Jethro, I wish it were the case, but sadly, I know of no one in the area.”  He paused and then said, “if there were, would it be safe to assume they would be looking for you, Jethro?  These murders seem so… ”

“Poorly disposed of?  Conveniently spelled out for us?”  Gibbs asked, sounding annoyed, but not with Ducky.  It was this whole thing he was annoyed with.

“I was going to say ‘blatant’ but either of those would do nicely,” Ducky answered with a sigh.  He looked at the two bodies in his Autopsy room sadly.  “It does indeed seem like someone is leading us to the watering trough, as the saying goes.”

*****

By the time the third victim was found, the media was calling it the ‘First Landing Murders’ and there was speculation that it was some kind of serial killer stalking the park.  All trails were secured, as much as they could be, and the park was being shut down until further notice.

Gibbs didn’t see a killer stalking the park when he looked at what remained of the third victim, however.  What he saw was a severed head with a set of dog tags wedged into the front teeth.  It was the means by which dead bodies were identified in times of war.  If you fell, your buddy would take your dog tags and stick them between your teeth, then slam them into place with a forceful kick to the jaw.  This would ensure they would not become separated from their owner.

Ducky was kneeling over the head with a penlight in an attempt to read the tags without dislodging them before he could get them back to autopsy.  Tony and McGee were once again canvasing the nature trail for evidence, but Gibbs suspected that they would find nothing.  The head, like the first body, had been planted there.

“Can you read the tags, Duck?” Gibbs asked as he approached.

“Just barely, Jethro, and I’m afraid that what I can see is limited.  But I can tell you that this man is a Marine.”  The medical examiner looked up at Gibbs at the words, exchanging glances.  “It’s significant, isn’t it, Jethro?”

“Everything is significant, Ducky.  You know that as well as I do,”  Gibbs replied, but his heart sank.  It was only this morning while he was reading over the report of the interview Ziva had administered to Alicia Haynes’ roommate had he realized there was a painfully obvious connection between Haynes and Graham that no one else would know about.  The roommate had called Haynes ‘Alice’ and while that meant nothing to anyone else, to Gibbs… it was the name of a very old, and very dead friend.  Ms. Alice Sheffield Leonard, whose husband, Mr. Matthew Leonard, was the Saw Bones who had trained Gibbs when he died his first death and came back as an Immortal.  Precious few people knew about them.  Himself, maybe Ducky.  Maybe the Watchers.  Gibbs didn’t know what all they knew about his life.  When they had found him and added his story to their archives.

And Haloran Anderson.  Haloran knew it, the Immortal who had taken an unhealthy obsession with Alice, a widow and school marm who just happened to also be a pre-Immortal.  The Saw Bones had known it, and Gibbs now wondered if Haloran had, as well, or if he had just targeted her because of her connections to Matthew and himself.

Whichever the case might have been, Gibbs suddenly found it no coincidence that two of the First Landing dead were named Alice and Matthew and that the other was a dead Marine.

He also didn’t have to wait until Ducky got the head back to autopsy to know that it had been removed from the body by a sword.

How Haloran had found him, he wasn’t sure, but there were little doubts in his mind now that he had.  This was nothing more than a good, old fashioned calling out.  Haloran was sending a message: the doctor and his lady were dead now, and soon too, shall be the Marine.

*****

The rest of Marine Corporal Jeffrey Shaw was found the next morning on the Osmanthus Trail, a three mile circular stretch of trail through one of the more secluded regions of the park.  It was mostly swamp land, with dark murky waters and Spanish moss hanging from the trees.  Though parts of the trail, especially at the entrance, were paved over in wooden planks and bridges, the rest was dirt and mud.

As the park was officially shut down until the killer was found and arrested, the body was discovered by police and NCIS, who were working in conjunction to find the rest of the body which belonged to the decapitated head.

*****

The centuries of his long life had taught Haloran Anderson many things, one of which was how to be invisible in plain sight of the people from whom he was hiding.  From his vantage point, he could see the mortal authorities and their volunteers combing the area in search of the body.  He waited, watching patiently for them to find the gift he had left for them, and occasionally, someone would walk right past his location without noticing him at all.

He was most pleased when they stumbled upon the body of the Marine and called it in on their little cellular devices with the global positioning technology and access to the World Wide Web.  None of which had helped them to actually locate the headless corpse, he was quick to note.  For all the strides these mortals had made, they did not ever really make any, did they?  They could not see beyond the end of the pathetic noses.  Which was how they’d managed not to see him as they rushed past his vantage point to examine their missing friend and call in their grand discovery.

They made their little phone call, thinking how important it made them feel.  They were now – in their own little minds – one step closer to finding the killer when in reality, they were only moving closer to fulfilling his own well-laid plans.   He would not have to wait long – indeed, the Naval Criminal Investigative Service team arrived in short order – and he would be taking the next step in his plan.

Presently, Gibbs arrived, just as he had intended for his old friend to do.  He had no white styrofoam cup with him this time, as had been staples of the last two investigations.  Coffee, Haloran assumed.  If there was one thing this century had gotten right, it was the preparation for coffee.  In the past, you were lucky if the coffee you drank on the trail actually contained coffee beans at all.  It would have been dirt, gravel, or… well, Haloran shuddered to think what some of the stuff he drank believing to be coffee actually had been.  Gibbs, he supposed, would be a connoisseur, such as he was.  It was almost a shame he had to die.

Almost a shame, that is… almost.

Finally, Haloran smiled, a slow and cruel smile.  His moment had come at last.  Gibbs knelt over the body, along with the white haired, bow-tied medical examiner and the young pup who followed Gibbs around like he was looking for a home.  They were close together at the moment, leaning over the body at one end while the medical examiner droned on about the rate of decomposition.  The other two members of the team were scouring the surrounding area for evidence.

The woman quickly vanished from sight, taking the nerd with her.  When he was certain that they were far enough away, he positioned his weapon – a high powered sniper rifle – took aim, and fired the first of two shots.

*****

Gibbs heard the gun shot first and felt the bullet as it whizzed past him.  It only took a split second for his brain to process the trajectory of the bullet and push Tony out of the way just as the ground exploded right where Tony had been.  They landed on the ground together in a heap, Tony’s head striking a rock on the trail behind him.  Before Gibbs could pull himself up off the ground, however, the second shot rang out, and he was slammed back into Tony as Ducky rushed to his side.

“My word, Jethro, what were you thinking? Mr. Palmer, quickly!  Help Anthony –!”

*****

_“My word, Jethro, what were you thinking? Mr. Palmer, quickly!  Help Anthony –!” _

Tony’s head ached in the worst way.  The ER doctor who saw Tony and examined his injuries said it was nothing more than a mild concussion and sent him home with some ibuprofen.  Vance gave him the rest of the day off, and McGee dropped him off at his apartment.

“See ya later, Tony.  Call if you need anything,” he said as he slipped out the door and Tony was alone with his aching head, a few minor bruises from when Gibbs shoved him out of the way, and his memories.

The kicker was, his head hurt so much that he couldn’t think and Tony wanted to think.  He had to, because when he went back to work tomorrow, he was going to a report to fill out, so he had to get his facts straight.  The facts as he remembered them, and right now, he didn’t exactly remember them quite as clearly as he thought he should.

“There was a gun shot,” he said, looking at himself in the mirror.  His face was smudged with dirt from the trail, and there was a scratch on his left cheek, as that had been the one to hit the ground when Gibbs landed on top of him.  “Normally,” he told his reflection, “I would be all over the chance for Jethro to jump my bones on the job, but not like this.”  He tried to laugh about it, make light of it, but there had been a gun shot.  Two of them, actually.  He … remembered… sort of, hearing a second shot, but that was right around the time things had started going a little fuzzy.

_“My word, Jethro, what were you thinking? Mr. Palmer, quickly!  Help Anthony –!” _

There _was _a second shot fired and that’s when Ducky had pulled Gibbs off him.  Maybe.  Tony remembered the weight being lifted off his body and Ducky in the background, scolding Gibbs while Palmer hovered over him.  Jimmy’s face openly shocked and concerned.

_“Tony, can you hear me?  Don’t close your eyes – no, don’t close them!  Keep looking at me, Tony!  The paramedics will be right here!” _

Tony had a hard time keeping concentrated on Jimmy, though.  He was acutely aware of Ducky’s voice in the background, reprimanding in his usual conversational tones.  _Ducky scolding Gibbs? _It was unfathomable in ways Tony couldn’t even begin to comprehend, especially the bit where it was only Ducky’s voice Tony could hear.

“That can’t be right,” he told his reflection with a shake of his head.  Which, of course, was totally the wrong thing to do, as the motion only compounded the pounding in his head.

Tony sighed and turned on the hot water.  Finding a wash cloth in his laundry hamper that wasn’t too dirty, he held it under the hot water for several seconds and then scrubbed his face with it.  The smudges of dirt and blood were gone when he looked up again, but the confusion was still there.  He just didn’t understand what exactly had happened.  And that was certainly not a good thing.

*****

__

  
“My word, Jethro, what were you thinking? Mr. Palmer, quickly!  Help Anthony –!”

Tony jumped, coming awake and up off the couch in his living room with a start.  It took him a minute to get his bearings and realize that what he had heard was not a gun being fired at all, but the door closing rather loudly in the background.

“That you, Boss?” he called out, blinking as he looked around.  It was dark, too dark.  Gibbs should have been here hours ago, if that was him.  Surely he wouldn’t have left Tony alone all this time, after getting off of work.

“Why are you on the couch, DiNozzo?”  was Gibbs response.  He moved into the room slowly, exhibiting a caution Tony rarely saw in Gibbs when they were in private.

“I guess I just fell asleep… ah… waiting for you to come home,” Tony answered hesitantly.  _What kept you?_ He didn’t ask it, not with words, exactly, but he looked up at Gibbs expectantly and saw circles under his lover’s eyes.  It _was very late _indeed.  “Lot’s paper work, I guess.  Did you get the bastard?”

Gibbs gave a weak, sad smile and shook his head in the negative.  “He’s still out there, but not for long.  I’ll get him this time.”

Tony’s head shot up at that, and he turned to look at Gibbs more fully.  Something about the way Gibbs had spoken didn’t sound right.  “What was that?”

“I said we’ll get him this time,”  Gibbs said, coming over to sit down on the couch next to Tony.  “How’s your head?”  he asked, looking concerned in a way that melted Tony’s heart every time he saw it.

“Better now that you’re here,” admitted Tony.  Gibbs slipped an arm around his shoulder and he settled in close to him.  It was then that he noticed something … odd.  “Did you come straight here from work?”  he asked, fishing for the answer to his question.  Gibbs wasn’t wearing the same clothes as he had been this morning.  It was a different shirt, different pants… and a quick turn of Tony’s head confirmed that the coat he’d dropped on the chair closest to the door was an entirely different one, as well.

Gibbs shrugged his shoulders in response, indicating that he had, but he didn’t think it was that big a deal.  Tony wasn’t sure what he thought of that.  It didn’t feel right.  Why would Gibbs, _his Gibbs, _go all the way back to his house before coming to check on him?  He hadn’t brought dinner or even groceries, so that wasn’t it.  He hadn’t brought a change of clothes, either.  Tony suddenly felt a little slighted here.

“Hey,” Gibbs said, softly, now.  “You okay?” he asked, rubbing Tony’s shoulder with one hand.  “I just changed my clothes is all.”

“Yeah.  Sure,” Tony responded, feeling despondent for reasons he couldn’t put his finger on.  He tried to push the feeling away and focus on Gibbs sitting on the couch with him, offering now to put in a movie and order pasta from that Italian place down the street.  Tony liked that place; they had good lasagna and baked ziti.  He nodded his head, with a soft, “sounds good, Boss.”

*****

__

  
“My word, Jethro, what were you thinking? Mr. Palmer, quickly!  Help Anthony while I take care of Jethro,”  Ducky said, issuing urgent orders to his assistant.  He pulled Gibbs off of Tony and away from the other body, thanking God aloud that no one else was there to see what he was doing.  “That was very stupid of you, my friend,” he reprimanded in a stern voice.  “You weren’t wearing a vest.”

_Gibbs’ voice was hoarse with pain as he answered in a voice so soft, it was clear no one but Ducky would hear it.  “I know, Duck.  Didn’t think.  It’s not like it can kill me.”_

_Ducky clucked his tongue and shook his head, pulling back Gibbs’ coat to assess the damage.  “This would have if you weren’t –”_

_“I know, I know, Ducky.  Bastard wasn’t aiming for me.  It was Tony, I …”  whatever Gibbs said next was muffled and low._

_Ducky sighed.  “You acted out of instinct, my friend, but it was no less stupid.”_

_They knelt together for a few minutes and then Gibbs struggled into a sitting position.  “Think you can give me a hand up, Duck?  I have a clean jacket in the trunk car.  McGee and Ziva will back soon.  Don’t need them seeing me all bloodied up like this.”_

_“What about Anthony, Jethro?”  Ducky asked as he helped Gibbs up.  They both turned to where Palmer had left Tony and walked back up the trail towards the entrance so he could call for an ambulance._

_“He looks a little out of it.  I doubt he’ll remember anything,” was Gibbs answer._

_“And what if he does, Jethro? What will you do if he does?  What will you tell him?”_

__*****

Haloran watched from the shadows as the gray haired medical examiner who looked like he belonged in an Agatha Christie novel rather than a police agency in the United States of America got out of his car and approached the house.  He was muttering to himself, something about making mistakes with a very long life and needing to ‘wake up and smell some of that coffee before he drank it.’  He didn’t see Haloran lurking in the bushes at the corner of the house; Haloran made sure of that.  He was very careful not to be seen by his victims, and this one – one whom Gibbs had obviously shared the secret of his Immortality with – was about to become his next victim.

This one, this strange little man who talked to his corpses while he examined them, would be the one Gibbs would come for.  They were friends, compatriots even.  Observing them as he had the last few days, Haloran had seen enough to know how Gibbs would react to this one being taken.  Much as Leonard with his sweet little Alice, the school marm.  Now there was a delightful lady if he’d ever seen one. He would have liked to have played with her a bit longer before he’d been forced to say good-bye to her.

There would be no playing with this one, however.  Once his purpose was served, Haloran would have no need of him, and his life would be forfeit.  Once Gibbs was out of the way for good.

As the medical examiner reached his front door and fumbled for his keys, Haloran made his move out of the shadows.  One hand – which just happened to hold a cloth soaked in chloroform – closed over the other man’s mouth.  The other wrapped around his victim’s arms, pinning their bodies close together in a vise-like grip.

*****

“It’s not like Dr. Mallard to be late for work when we’re in the middle of a case,” Jimmy was saying when Tony finally arrived at the office a few steps behind McGee, who had given him a ride that morning.  Gibbs, who was listening to Jimmy with an equal amount of concern on his face, noticed that Tony was behaving differently this morning.  He was stiff and straight-faced, not his usual self, and he hadn’t looked at Gibbs at all.  That in and of itself was unusual for Tony, who had always looked to Gibbs for affirmation.

Gibbs nodded his head at Jimmy’s comment and said, “I’ll call him myself in a minute, Palmer.  Why don’t you go down to autopsy and see if he left any notes?”

“Which might contain clues as to his whereabouts?” Jimmy asked, a little too eagerly for a man facing the possibility that his boss was missing in action, and bounded out of the bullpen.  He all but ran into Abby, who just happened to be a few steps behind him.

“Tony!Tony!Tony!”  Abby said, excitedly, skipping past Gibbs to hug Tony.  “Are you okay, Tony?  McGee said you never called him and – of course, Gibbs was checking on you last night wasn’t he? – so McGee wouldn’t know how you were doing.  How are you doing, Tony? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Abs,” he promised her, kissing her on the forehead in his best brotherly manner.  She was bouncing off the walls right now, and Gibbs knew it was because she had been in earlier working on the forensics of the case and worrying about her friend.

“Good,”  Abby said, and then she punched him lightly in the arm.

“Ow!  What was that for?”  Tony asked, rubbing his arm as if it had actually hurt him.  It was, Gibbs noted, the closest thing to humor he’d seen in Tony since yesterday.

“That was for scaring me half to death by almost getting shot yesterday,” he was told.  The words were accompanied by a mock-pout, and then she hugged him again just as tightly as the first time.  “Don’t EVER do that again, Tony!  I don’t know how I could take it.”

“Sorry, Abs,” Tony said as he returned the second hug.  “I’ll try harder next time.”

“Damn straight you will, mister,” Abby agreed.  “Or I’ll sic Gibbs on you.”  She didn’t wait for him to respond and the next thing either of them knew, she was excusing herself to get back to her lab.

It should have left an opening for one of them to say something to each other, however, that didn’t happen.  Instead, they just looked at one another until Tony turned away, sitting down at his desk to fill out his report.

Inwardly, Gibbs sighed.  They needed to have a talk, the two of them.  He hadn’t thought anything was wrong when he left the young man last night.  They’d watched movies and ate pasta until Tony could barely keep his eyes open.  Gibbs had left only because he hadn’t wanted to overtax the injured man in light of his concussion, but now he was beginning to wonder what had occurred between then and now to make Tony react this way.  Every time their eyes met, Gibbs swore he saw disappointment.

Speaking of disappointments… Gibbs rummaged in his desk drawer for the cell phone he’d tossed there that morning when he’d first gotten to the office.  Grasping it, he punched in Ducky’s number and waited.  And waited.

And waited.

The phone rang several times, almost until the point where the voicemail should have kicked on.  Gibbs hated leaving messages on voicemail and would have hung up, had it not been for the sudden voice filling his ears.

_“What a remarkable piece of technology this is.  Wouldn’t you agree, Leroy Gibbs?  Or is it Jethro now?  I can’t keep track.”_

__Haloran.

Gibbs’ heart ran cold at the sound of the voice.  In his mind, he could see Alice and Matt laying headless on the floor of their cabin home.

Haloran had Ducky, a member of his team.  His friend.  Unlike the last time, this would not end with the spilling of Donald Mallard’s blood.  Not this time, damn it.

“McGee!” he barked out, his mind swimming with thoughts he neither liked nor could help.  When McGee looked up, he tossed him the cell phone.  “Take this down to Abby and have her try and trace the last call.”

McGee looked at it, his face draining of color.  “This is Ducky’s number, Boss,” he said, as if confirming.

“I know who’s number it is, McGee.  Just do as I say.”

McGee took off at once, but stopped again at the elevator with a concerned look on his face.  Gibbs could feel Tony staring at him the same way.

It was Ziva who spoke the words they were all thinking.  “The killer has Ducky.”  She didn’t make it a question, and for that Gibbs was glad.  There was no doubt and he didn’t want there to be one in the minds of his team.  Not about this.

*****

“You know who did this.”

It was an accusation that Gibbs wasn’t expecting as he looked around the Mallard home for signs of a struggle or any other indicator of how or when Ducky had been taken.  The house was no help to him at all, however.  After his mother’s death, Ducky had begun looking for something – smaller – and had recently found a charming little two bedroom brick house with a garden in the back and room for Ducky’s books and hobbies.  Everything in this house was in various stages of packing or throwing out.  Some of it was going to storage, while others Ducky had mentioned the intent to sell at auction when he sold the house.

Gibbs turned to face his accuser.  He saw no reason to deny it, so he didn’t.  “Yes, Tony, I do.”

“And so did Ducky,” Tony followed up.  Gibbs could feel, not just hear, the betrayal in the young man’s voice.  Could he have seen something yesterday?  Ducky had mentioned the possibilty, but Gibbs hadn’t thought — well, Tony had been out of it after his head had smacked that rock, so Gibbs just had not thought the younger man would have been able to focus on anything at the time.

“No, Tony,” he answered with a shake of his head. “Ducky does not know the monster who took him.  Ducky didn’t know me then.”

The former cop frowned at this.  “No need to get all nostalgic,” he said crossly.

“DiNozzo…”  Gibbs growled, warning him off of pushing an issue he knew nothing about.

“Don’t you ‘DiNozzo’ me, Boss!  We’re supposed to a team.  We’re supposed to be able to trust one another!  Damn it all, Jethro!” He exclaimed, using Gibbs’ name in the tone of voice that meant annoyance and not intimacy.  Those were the only times Tony used them, like when he’d returned from Mexico and Tony wasn’t yet ready to trust him.  Gibbs had thought they were past that.  “You’re supposed to trust me,” Tony said in a softer voice now.  Gibbs could see the hurt now, not just the anger the young man was feeling.

“Tony…”  he said, reaching for the other man’s hand and was not so surprised when Tony jerked away from him as if it were a slap to the face instead.  “What would you have me do, Tony?” he asked.  If his voice sounded cross, it was because Tony’s reaction had cut him in two.

“Tell the truth.  Tell _me_ the truth.”  Tony said angrily.  “That second shot, it hit you.” Again, there was no questing in this statement.  Tony wasn’t looking for confirmation of what he thought he knew.  “And Ducky pulled us apart so I wouldn’t notice you were… that you’d… and then you changed your clothes before you came over last night, so I wouldn’t see the blood.”

The room around them was suddenly filled with an awkward silence as Gibbs grasped at something to say.  He’d been fighting this exact confrontation for some time now, both with himself and with Abby… and even Ducky.  You wouldn’t think a Watcher would want every one to know his Immortal’s secret, but Ducky had definitely thought Gibbs should tell Tony.  They’d argued over it – amicably – on more than one occasion in the last few months.  And where Ducky had tried reason and debate, Abby had flat out called Gibbs a “stupid old man” and added “Tony loves you!  He won’t care about a little thing like this!  He will care that you’re keeping it from him, though.”  That was Abby for you.  There was nothing ‘little’ about being an Immortal, but she reduced it down to just the relationship he was building with Tony.

“The truth is complicated, DiNozzo,” was what Gibbs finally said.

“So un-complicate it,” Tony shot back, folding his arms across his chest.  “And don’t tell me you were wearing a vest yesterday because I heard Ducky scolding you for not having one.”

Gibbs winced.  “This really isn’t the time or place for thi–”

“Is there ever going to be a ‘time’ or a ‘place’ for it, Gibbs?  You have been LYING to me.  To me.  I thought,”  Tony laughed bitterly.  “I thought I meant something to you.  How dumb was I?”  He laughed some more and started to turn away from Gibbs, then he stopped, whirled around and said, “you really are a bastard, you know that?”

He was almost to the door of the packed-up bedroom they were standing in when Gibbs stopped him by insinuating himself between Tony and the door and pushing it shut.  “Yes, I am, Tony.  I never pretended to be otherwise.  You loved me anyway.”  Loved, that’s not how he should have said it, and he prayed that, by the end of it, Tony would still love him.

“You’ve got something to say now?”  Tony prompted, ignoring the talk of love and damn it, how had Gibbs missed that Tony was this mad at him?  Oh yes, he’d been preoccupied with Ducky’s abduction.

“I’m an Immortal, Tony.  Everything you think you saw yesterday is true.  I was shot and it was bad, so Ducky pulled me away from you so no one would else would see my body heal itself.  Only I guess… I guess I trained you to be more observant than Ducky gave you credit for.  You knew something was wrong, didn’t you?”  Gibbs’ voice softened there.  He could see where Tony would have clued in that something was wrong and he would have tried to make note of it, even if he had been flitting in and out of consciousness.

Tony ignored the last part of Gibbs’ confession, the personal part, but he latched right onto the first part.  “You’re immortal?  What, like some kind of god or something?”

Gibbs shook his head.  “Not ‘immortal’ with a lower case I, Tony.  I’m an Immortal.  We’re … a difference race of people, and we can’t die like normal people can.  Not from old age… not even from being shot in the back.”  Tony looked like he wanted to say ‘prove it,’ so Gibbs stopped him before he could by saying, “Think about it, DiNozzo.  You know the second shot took me in the back.  Do I look dead to you?”

“No,” Tony grudgingly admitted, but he immediately shrunk away from Gibbs’ next attempt to touch him.  “I’m still pissed at you, you know!  You lied to me.  You expected me to trust you and then you… threw it back in my face.”

“Yes, I did, and I know you’re hurting, but damn it, think about it, would you?” Gibbs implored him.

“No, I won’t!  I see where this is going!  You’re going to tell me that by lying to me, you were actually protecting me from SOMETHING or SOMEONE and that’s supposed to make it all better!  Well, no, Gibbs.  It won’t make it all better.  Not this time.  I accept that you’re telling the truth _this time_ because you’re alive standing here and not in the hospital or on Ducky’s autopsy table, but I won’t accept that our entire relationship from the day I met you has been one huge ass lie!”

Gibbs opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment, Tony’s cell phone rang.

“Yeah, yeah Probie.  We’ll be right down.”  Tony snapped the phone shut.  “That was McGee.  He and Ziva found something outside.”  Without saying another word, Tony turned his back on Gibbs.  After a step or two, he stopped and turned around.  “I’m telling the others,” he announced.  “We’re a team, and no matter you say, or think, this is Need to Know information that we all NEED to know,”  and then he left the room.

This time, Gibbs let him.  This time, it was what Tony needed. There would be time to talk about this after Haloran was taken care of.  He hoped.

*****

“Whattya got for me, Abby?”  Gibbs asked when he entered the lab.

“This!” she said and smacked Gibbs upside the back of his head.  “You got shot yesterday and you didn’t tell me?”

“How did you –?”  Gibbs started to ask, but stopped when Abby held up his ruined coat from the day before.  “I found it in the stuff McGee brought me from Ducky’s house.  Gibbs, how could you?”  Ducky had shoved the coat in his bag after Gibbs had changed, to keep the others from seeing it.  He must have taken it home to dispose of so no one would ask questions.

“Don’t you start in on me, too, Abby.  I’ve already heard it from Tony,” Gibbs shot back.

“Wait a minute!  Back up, Gibbs.  You told Tony the truth?  Good for you!  I always thought –”  Abby stopped short when she saw the look forming on his face.  “Oh, no!  Gibbs!  You didn’t tell Tony, did you?”

She looked heartbroken and Gibbs felt awful now, the pit which had formed in his stomach the minute Tony pronounced that he was still mad at him growing that much bigger.  He shook his head sadly.

Abby sighed.  “Poor Tony! Gibbs!  You have to make it up to him!  You two are perfect for each other!  Do something!”  she insisted, not even bothering to ask him how Tony had reacted.  Abby knew, he realized.  She had been the first person since Shannon who could read him like a book.  She just knew that Tony had taken it badly.

“I will, Abs, I will… ” Gibbs said with a deep sigh of frustration.  If he’d listened to her or Ducky months ago, he wouldn’t be placed in this position now… dealing with a sworn enemy, a missing friend, and a hurting lover all at the same time.  “But first, I need to know what you’ve got for me.  We’ve got to find where the bastard took Ducky.”

Abby nodded solemnly and led him over to her computer.

*****

When Gibbs returned to the bullpen, he wasn’t surprised to find Fornell sitting behind his desk.  The other members of the team were at theirs as well, trying to look busy.  They all glared at him as he approached, so he had to assume Tony had informed them of what was _really _going on.

“Tobias,” Gibbs said, deciding to ignore the looks his team was giving him.

“Gibbs.”  Fornell stood up and moved from behind the desk.  They eyed each other up and down, sizing each other up.

“My office?”  Gibbs suggested, meaning the elevator.

“Nope,” Tobias answered.  “Conference room, all of you.”  He looked around, including the other members of Gibbs’ team.  A couple of minutes later, they were sitting at a table in one of the conference rooms, watching as Fornell closed and locked the door behind him.

When he was sure no one was going to walk in on them, Fornell wasted no time in getting to the point.  “This has gotten out of control, Gibbs.”

“Yes, it has,” Gibbs agreed in a tense voice.  Fornell was a Watcher, well, a former Watcher, but he was still connected for political reasons.  “The bastard took Ducky.”

“And your team knows what you are,” Fornell shot back.  “Sort of.”

“What do you mean, sort of?”  Tony asked, jumping up out of his chair.

“Gibbs sugar-coated it, DiNozzo.  The whole truth is too complicated for a five minute argument in someone else’s bedroom while you’re supposed to be investigating a kidnapping.”  Fornell glared at Tony and Tony sat back down.

“But you know the truth?”  This was from McGee.

“He’s a Watcher,” Gibbs said tersely.  “They keep tabs on the Immortals, keep records.  It’s kind of like an historian only… a lot more annoying.”  This last bit was accompanied by a glare at Fornell, who had the audacity to look smug.

“You never thought Ducky was annoying,” Fornell reminded him.

“Hell, no!  I _like_ Ducky!”  Gibbs shot back crossly.

Fornell nodded his head knowingly.  To the others, he said simply, “I’ll answer all the questions you guys have after we get Dr. Mallard back safely.  That has to be our first priority.”  Ziva started to say something but he hurried on quickly to shut her up.  “What you do need to understand is that Gibbs isn’t as indestructible as he’d like to think.  Sure, the occasional knife, bullet, terrorist explosion…”  Fornell looked grimly at Gibbs here, who shrugged as if to say ‘hey, not my fault.’  “…won’t kill him, but a sword will.  Immortals fight with swords, and they can be killed only by beheading.”

“But the killer shot at Tony and Gibbs,” McGee put out there.  “He didn’t use a sword.”

Gibbs shook his head.  “The first two victims had their hearts pierced by a blade,” he explained, “and the last was severed from the body with a clean stroke.  It was a sword, each time.”

“So those people were Immortal as well?”  Ziva asked.  Tony, so far, had said nothing.

“No,” Gibbs replied with a shake of his head.  “Our victims were stabbed through the heart, and that’s what killed them.  Stabbing an Immortal through the heart, or anywhere else for that matter, won’t kill them.  Kill us.  Our vics were definitely mortal,” Gibbs replied.  “The killer was using them to flush me out, and to send a message.”

“What kind of message?”  This was from Tony.  Gibbs looked at him once and then averted his eyes.  “At Ducky’s, you said you knew who it was.”

“I do, yes.  We ran across each other once, over a century ago.  He killed two of my dearest friends, but not me.”  Gibbs answered grimly.

None of them said anything for a moment or two, but Gibbs could see each of them working through what he and Fornell were telling them.  Finally, Fornell cleared his throat.  “Like I said, we need to focus on getting Dr. Mallard back as soon as possible.”

“What about the killer?”  Ziva asked.  “If he’s the same as Gibbs, then will how arresting him do any good?”

“It won’t,” Fornell said point blank.  His eyes turned to Gibbs, and Gibbs could see Fornell’s wheels turning already.  “The Immortals have to deal with each other in their own way.”

*****

Abby pinpointed the signal of Ducky’s cell phone to a grungy little section of Norfolk surrounded by bars, pawn shops, little convenience stores, and gas stations with bars on the windows of the attendants’ island.

“Nice location,” Tony commented to McGee when he spotted a hooker on the street corner wrapped in a leopard print faux fir coat and a little black dress that barely reached the hem of the coat.

“Not your kind of place, I take it, Tony?”  Ziva asked.  “You don’t like street hikers?”

“It’s street walkers, Ziva,” Tony corrected her, “and no, I don’t.”  He glanced over at Gibbs, who was consulting the GPS coordinates Abby’s computer had given them.

Gibbs, as if aware of someone’s eyes on him, looked up from the GPS and nodded his head.  “This is the place, kids,” he said, pointing to a seedy-looking hotel across from one of the bars on the other side of the street.

They parked and headed inside, with the team falling into step behind Gibbs out of habit.  None of them had said much since the conference with Fornell, but at least they were still willing to follow orders.  Gibbs showed the man at the front desk a sketch of Haloran, done from his own memories of their past encounters.  Only without the cowboy hat and with more updated clothes.

“Have you seen this man?” he asked, flashing his badge.

“What’s he done?”  the hotel manager – Eugene, according to his name tag – asked in return.

“Kidnapping, possibly murder,” Gibbs said grimly.

Eugene pointed to the stairs and didn’t even once ask for a warrant.  Some people did, but in this part of town, most people just wanted to keep themselves out of trouble.  “Room 314,” he  added when Gibbs started for the stairs.

Gibbs didn’t wait to see if the others were following him; he just went up the stairs as quickly as he could, often taking two steps at a time.  He’d already forced the door open by the time McGee made it up the stairs.

“Room’s empty, boss!”  Tony said, entering behind him followed by Ziva and McGee.  Ziva immediately began scouting out the room by kicking open the bathroom door.  Haloran was not there and neither was Ducky.

“But this makes no sense,” McGee said to Tony.  “Abby couldn’t have been wrong about this.  Could she?”

Tony shrugged his shoulders helplessly and was about to answer when, somewhere in the room, a cell phone began to ring.

“That’s Ducky’s phone,” Gibbs said at once.  “I’d recognize that ringtone anywhere.”  He found the cell phone taped to the inside of a dresser drawer.  Along with it, there was a note written on hotel stationary.  The hand writing was little better than chicken scratchings, and it’s content was a series of numbers.  Gibbs tossed it to McGee as he answered the cell phone.

“Haloran,” he said calmly.

In his ear, he could hear cold, cruel laughter, and then, “Think you can find your friend this time, Leroy?”

“It’s Jethro now, damn you, and don’t you worry about my friend,” Gibbs snarled back at the phone.

Haloran laughed some more.  “Don’t worry, Jethro.  I am not concerned at all about your friends.  _Just your head._”

The call ended before Gibbs could say anything more and he swore, then turned to McGee.  Tony was peering over McGee’s shoulder as they both looked at the numbers.

“What the hell is this stuff?”  Tony asked, “and where’s Ducky?”

“I think they’re more GPS coordinates, Boss,” McGee said.

“It is a wild a duck chase, then,” Ziva said, and this time, no one corrected her, considering it was Ducky they were talking about.

“It might be,” Gibbs said, “but it’s the only thing we have to go on.  Time’s running out.”

“If he’s after you, will he actually need to kill Ducky, Boss?”  McGee asked as they started to leave the room.

“He doesn’t need to, no,”  Gibbs answered, following the others out of the room.  “He wants to.  Killing is what he does.  When I met him, he was a bandit in California during the gold rush.  Ran with a gang of thieves and murderers as their leader.”

As they passed the door to the second floor fire escape, Gibbs stopped dead in his tracks.  His senses were filled with the sensation of another Immortal nearby.  The others were halfway down the hall before any of them realized he’d stopped.  It was Tony who turned back, Tony who’s heart he’d broken with his subterfuge and whose eyes had stared at him with such anger all day.  Now when he looked at Gibbs, it was in confusion.  “You coming?”  he asked, his words causing the others to look back at him as well.

Gibbs looked back at the fire escape and shook his head.  “He’s here,” was what he said.

“He… Haloran?”  Tony asked.  Gibbs nodded his head and the others exchanged glances.  Gibbs could see that they were worried even before Tony asked, “how do you know that?”

“I just do,” Gibbs answered.  “Take the GPS coordinates and go after Ducky.  I’ll go after Haloran.”

“Alone, Boss?”  McGee was wide-eyed as he spoke.

“I’ve been doing this since before you grandparents were in diapers, McGee.  I can handle myself.”  His voice left no arguments and the others started down the stairs.  Only Tony lingered a moment longer.  He looked like he wanted to say something.  “Yes, DiNozzo?”

“What happens if… if he… ?”  Tony floundered around looking for the right words.

“One of us is going to die today, Tony,” Gibbs told him.  “One way or another.”  He paused for Tony to actually say something but when he didn’t, Gibbs added, “Go on, Tony.  You don’t need to be here for this.”  Then Gibbs headed for the fire escape without waiting to see if Tony stayed or left.

******

Haloran was on the roof when Gibbs finally made to the top, swinging his sword as if to limber up his sword arm.  “Leroy Jethro Gibbs, I presume,”  he sneered, his lips turning upwards as Gibbs pulled out his old 1812 Army sword.

“Haloran Anderson,”  Gibbs echoed dourly.  He fell into an easy fighting stance, ready for one of them to make the first move.

“Your _team _has gone after the medical examiner, then?”  his opponent asked, swinging his sword as he taunted Gibbs.  He said the word ‘team’ the way some people said things like ‘Black Death’ and ‘fleas.’  “I will never understand why so many of our kind bother with these pathetic mortals.  They are nothing but pale shadows of our greatness.  They aren’t worthy to live.”

“You’ve got it all wrong, Haloran,” Gibbs said in reply, moving to the left as they began to circle one another.  “It’s you who are not worthy to live.”

Haloran laughed.  “You would side with them over your own kind?”

“Why not?”  Gibbs theorized.  “These mortals cherish every moment of their brief and fleeting lives.  They form deep bonds and do great deeds, with no promises that their works will live on, save for the joy of doing them in the moment.  Our kind have trouble forming the simplest of loyalties, for fear of losing their heads to someone they considered a friend.”

“So you say,” Haloran shot back.  “But I for one do not care what they do.  I will do as I please with their lives… and yours.”

“Over my dead body,” retorted Gibbs.

“That,” Haloran said with a snarl, raising his sword into an offensive position, “can be arranged.”

Steel finally met steel as Haloran made the first move, lunging at Gibbs with his sword arm.  Gibbs easily deflected the attack, and the two Immortals circled one another, their tense banter drown out by the clanging sound of blade hitting blade.  Back and forth across the rooftop they moved, both of them acting on the survival instincts they’d each honed over the years.

Gibbs made first blood — his blade slicing Haloran’s arm just below the shoulder.  His opponent bellowed in pain and anger and came at him like a charging bull.  Gibbs swiftly moved aside and whirled around, keeping his face to the man at all times.  There could be no slip ups, no false moves.  He owed it to Tony and Ducky to make it out of this in one –

Gibbs yelped as Haloran’s sword pierced his side.  Not deeply, thankfully, but enough to send him backwards.  He stumbled, skittering across the rooftop onto his back while Haloran advanced.

*****

Tony’s eyes widened when he saw Gibbs fall backwards.  He wanted to call out and warn Gibbs – not that he really needed warning – but that would have alerted Gibbs to his presence.  He wasn’t supposed to be here; Gibbs had told him to go with the others.  He should be on his way to get Ducky.  So why was he there on the roof, huddled behind a utility shed close to the fire escape?

He wasn’t sure, really.  He was still angry with Gibbs.  Really, really angry and hurt that Gibbs had lied to him about something so integral to his life.  It hurt on so many levels, Tony didn’t know where to begin to process everything he felt.  He had been betrayed, lied to.  His heart had been crushed.  His trust in all that he’d thought he’d known about his boss, friend, and lover had been shaken to the very core.  And yet, by the time he had rejoined the others, his concern for Gibbs was weighing on him so deeply that it must have shown.

Ziva took one look at him and told him to go on.  She and McGee could handle this on their own.  And McGee only took a second to go from confusion to understanding and he just nodded in agreement.  “He’d want someone to have his six,” he added as a parting shot.

The whole way up the fire escape to the roof, Tony’s mind whirled with thoughts.  He could hear Fornell’s words in his ears, reminding him that Gibbs could only die from beheading.  Halfway up, he started to hear the sounds of the sword fight as they drifted down to him.  The clanging metal rang his ears and echoed through his entire being.  He was shaking by the time he reached the roof.  Gibbs and the perp were circling each other, trading barbed words while their swords swung menacingly, and Tony found a place to hide.

It was nothing like watching _The Three Musketeers_ or _The Man in the Iron Mask, _he realized with a sickening feeling in the pit of stomach.  Those films, and the dozens of others he’d seen where sword fighting was featured, didn’t come close to the palpable intensity he felt here on this rooftop.  The palpable and vicious intensity.  Those scenes ended when the director yelled, “Cut!” and actors took five.  This scene could end — and Gibbs just fell and it was really looking like it _might end _– with the death of the man he loved.

And just to make this an even more perfect day, it began to rain.

*****

“I have you now,” Haloran sneered, looming above Gibbs.  His lips curled in a victorious snarl, and he raised his sword.  “I have to say, I didn’t think it would be this easy.”

“That’s because it’s not going to be,” Gibbs replied through gritted teeth.  Big, cold raindrops hit his upturned face, but he did not acknowledge them as he swung his body upwards, forcing Haloran off balance and jabbing his sword into other man’s leg.

As the rain continued, making roof slick and even more dangerous, Gibbs launched brutal attack, pushing Haloran back to the edge of the roof with each parry and thrust.  He might have made it, might have succeeded in pushing his enemy off the edge and into the street, had he not slipped, the rain slick rooftop bringing him to his knees.

Haloran redoubled his efforts, coming back hard and furious. Gibbs rolled to one side, rose to his feet and defending himself despite how weary he was becoming.  His breath came in short, labored bursts, as did Haloran’s.  Both of them were tiring; both of them were wearing down.  That was when Gibbs knew it would be over soon.  Haloran was cocky and overconfident.  He would slip up.

And finally, he did, making a wide, erratic swing that left him off balance and wide open to attack.  Gibbs seized the opportunity, plunging his sword deep into his opponent’s side.  He heard the familiar crack of bones breaking – Haloran’s ribs, most likely – and when he pulled his sword back, the blade was soaked in dark blood.

“Looks… like… you… won … this … time… Gibbs…”  Haloran rasped as he sank to his knees, one hand clutching the wound while his sword dropped, clattering, from the other.

“There can be only one,” Gibbs replied, raising his sword above his head one last time.

*****

Ducky was silent on the ride back to NCIS headquarters, which was unusual for him; but all things considered, no one thought it very strange at all.  It had started raining by the time they found him in one of the cabins at the First Landing State Park, bound to a wooden chair and gagged so he could not speak.  Loud thunder and fierce lightning now accompanied the rain and every time the lightning struck, Ducky’s head would whip around in the direction of the sound.

What the others had no way of knowing, however, was why he reacted this way.  No one had told them yet – Fornell’s promise to explain everything to them after their comrade had been found  withstanding – about the lightning-like aspects of the Quickening which followed the beheading of any Immortal.

“Oh thank God, Jethro!”  Ducky finally said when they arrived and he saw Gibbs standing in the middle of the bullpen.  By this time, it was late, and no one else save Fornell, Gibbs, and Abby, were in the office at all.  “You have no idea how worried I was!  That savage man…”

“… will never bother anyone else again,” Gibbs promised solemnly and he embraced his friend.  “It’s good to see you, too, Duck.  He didn’t hurt you any, did he?”

“No, not at all, Jethro.  Not at all,”  Ducky assured him and then let himself be gathered into Abby’s welcoming arms.

She hugged him tightly and then turned to Fornell with a smug, “See?  I told you Ducky would be alright!”

“It is indeed good to be home, Abigail,” Ducky responded to her hug.  “But where, may I ask, is Anthony?”

“I was about to ask the thing, Duck,” Gibbs said, answering for Abby.  He turned stern, somewhat worried eyes to the other two agents.

McGee’s face froze for a moment, working through what might have happened to Tony if he wasn’t with Gibbs and he didn’t come in with them.  While he did, Tony breezed into the bullpen of his own accord, saying something about parking the car.  McGee had the keys in his pocket but, after catching the other agent’s eye, he said nothing about that.

*****

If Ducky was alright, the rest of the team certainly was not.  At least, not entirely.

Fornell kept his word, making himself available to each of them to answer their questions about Immortals, Gibbs and what really happened on that roof.  The truth, of course, had already been covered up by Fornell long before the team had returned with Ducky.

For Gibbs and his team, there were a many tense days ahead, but to their credit, none of them let it interfere with how they preformed in the field.  If there was a case, they were all very professional about it.   But in the bullpen, there was a marked difference.  The camaraderie was gone, the bond between them stressed towards a breaking point which Gibbs felt would come soon enough… only to notice that little by little, McGee and Ziva had returned to normal as well.  They’d made their peace with what had happened.

The only one who hadn’t was Tony.

Not that this surprised Gibbs any.  Tony had been hit the hardest by this truth, given the horrible and unprecedented manner in which he had found out.  So he steered clear of Gibbs and Gibbs, in return, had begun to refrain from his signature head slaps or any interaction at all, for that matter.

*****

For Tony, having life go back to normal meant reconciling the things he’d learned about his lover and the things he’d seen with what _he knew for certain about the man_. The trouble was, be wasn’t sure what that was any more.  Where did the lies end and Gibbs begin?  And could he talk to about it?  Fornell, yeah, but like Gibbs, Tony had a history with the FBI agent that didn’t quite led itself to heart to heart conversations about his boss.  Or his love life.  Especially not if they involved the same person.  Ducky… but Ducky was Gibbs’ oldest friend – oldest mortal friend, Tony amended – and one of those Watchers.  In other words, he was a part of the problem.

There was, however, Abby.

Though no one had actually come out and said so in so many words, Abby had known all along what Gibbs was.  How she’d known, Tony wasn’t sure, but she did and she accepted it.   Hell, she’d tried to hook them up fully knowing Gibbs had a secret this big.

“Heh,” Tony muttered to himself as he replayed the events leading up to him making his big play -with Abby’s whole-hearted encouragement- for Gibbs.  “He told you not to get involved with him, DiNozzo, you fool.  He told you that you didn’t know what it was you wanted.”

The trouble is, now that he did know?  Tony was miserable without Gibbs.  He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he missed the Friday night steak dinners, movies sitting so close to each other on Gibbs couch he could smell the faint remains of Gibbs’ aftershave, lazy weekends in bed with someone he knew loved him enough to want him there.  He even missed the head slaps and the snarky comments at work.  Right now, Gibbs was treating him with kid gloves and it was something he’d never done before.

They were in strange, new territory and neither of them knew how to handle it.  It was unnerving.

Which lead Tony back to Abby, and that was how he found himself sitting in her living room after a few weeks of treading carefully around at work, listening to her talk about the Battle of New Orleans.

“Abs?” he asked in confusion.  “I don’t mean to be rude or anything but what does the War of 1812 have to do with Gibbs?”

Abby stared at him.  “Everything, silly!  Weren’t you paying attention?  That’s when Gibbs died, the first time.  During the Battle of New Orleans.”

“And you know this how?” he countered.  “Gibbs didn’t just tell you.  Gibbs doesn’t tell people anything,” he grumbled.  It still hurt that he hadn’t been told, and he wondered if it ever wouldn’t hurt.

“No, he does, but I had _this_ so he had to.”

‘This’ turned out to be an old family photo album, and after a couple of pages of Abby pointing out people who looked vaguely like her in a familial sense, only dressed in period clothes and without the black nail polish, she pointed to one of the photographs.  “Recognize anyone?”

Tony squinted.  The image was very old and grainy, but that certainly looked like… “Gibbs,” he said, letting his fingertips touch the picture.  “Who’s that he’s with?”

“My… great, or maybe great-great aunt, Marcella.”

“She’s very pretty,” Tony said.  She might even have been gorgeous under those wide skirts, but Tony couldn’t tell.  “She a red head?” he asked, curious to know how far back Gibbs’ fettish with flaming hair went.

“Nope.  More like mine, actually,” Abby admitted. “But you can’t see it with her hair under that obnoxious hat.”  She took the album from him, closing it, and set it on the floor at her feet.  “The thing is, Tony, Gibbs didn’t want to tell me, but I had empirical proof.  And I bugged him til he had no choice.”  Tony chuckled and she smiled approvingly and patted him his knee.  “It’s not that he doesn’t love you, Tony, it’s more like… he doesn’t know how to trust.  Not with this.”

Tony nodded, sadly.  It was kind of a big deal, and he could see how any Immortal, not just Gibbs, would want to keep it under wraps as much as they could.  It was all about survival.

Abby nodded, too, just as sadly.

“I saw them fight,” he admitted after a fashion.  Gibbs had told him to go and he had stayed instead.  He was beginning to think he should have listened for once in his, because what he had seen — he couldn’t unsee.

“Gibbs and Haloran?”

Tony nodded.  “I climbed up to the rooftop and hid behind a storage shed.  It was… ” he trailed off, lost in the thoughts of that day.  He finished lamely with, “… not like the movies.”  Somehow, he knew Abby wouldn’t judge him for not following Gibbs’ orders to the letter, so he began to talk about it.  He told her what he saw, how he felt sitting there in the rain, about the lightning…

“It’s called Quickening,” she told him.  When he looked at her for clarification, she shrugged.  “I had to have something to ask Fornell, so I asked him what happened when an Immortal did take a head.”

Tony nodded.  “Quickening, then.”  He shrugged, struggling with words.  “When he fought, it was like watching someone else.  Not Gibbs, but a natural predator.  He was _good_ but it was scary.  It wasn’t him.”

“No, Tony, it _was_ him,” Abby corrected him, taking his hand in hers.  “Just not the Gibbs we know, but him all the same.  He keeps it so deep inside, because most the time, that’s where it needs to be.  Gibbs isn’t a killing machine, but he does what he needs to … to survive.  If that makes sense.”

“It does, sort of,” he acknowledged and he squeezed her hand.  “It’s just hard, you know?  I need time, I think.”

Abby sighed.  “I know you do, Tony, but don’t take too much time.  Gibbs may have forever, but you don’t.”  She hugged him and kissed his cheek softly, and then announced that he was taking her to lunch.  Which he gladly did.

*****

One Saturday morning about a month after his talk with Abby and almost two after the incident with Haloran, Tony showed up on Gibbs doorstep looking miserable.

“I miss you,” is what he said after Gibbs ushered him inside the house.

“I miss you, too, DiNozzo,” Gibbs admitted.  He longed to say more, but Tony needed to be the one to do this.  Like the day at Ducky’s, he needed it to be his way.  Gibbs understood that, so he said nothing and waited.

Tony sighed deeply, and ran a hand through his hair.  “The thing is, Boss,” he said in a frustrated voice, “I wanted to hate you.  So damn bad, I wanted to hate you.  All my life, people have kept things – important things – from me, and I never thought you would be one of them, you know?”

“I know, Tony,” Gibbs responded.  He hadn’t intended to be one of them, either.

Tony nodded his head miserably and went on with what was obviously a rehearsed speech.  “And you went and stayed at the hotel… and all I could think of was… what if the last thing I said to you was said in anger?  What if you’d died?”  He bit his lip and Gibbs could see that Tony had given this part a lot of thought.

“That didn’t happen, Tony,” he assured him, tentatively taking a step closer to the man he still loved very much.  “I’m still here.  I’m not going anywhere.”

“You could,” Tony insisted sadly.

Gibbs shook his head.  “Not happening, DiNozzo.  Not if there’s a snowballs chance in Hell you’re about to let me off the hook finally.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jethro,” Tony replied, but he also took a step forward and suddenly the two of them were in each others’ arms, kissing like it was the first time all over again.  Gibbs knew there was more to say, for both of them.  He’d screwed up royally by not being honest with Tony, knowing full well that Tony needed that honesty, needed the sense of being important to someone else.  Important to the person he gave his heart to.  Their kiss was a start, and a good one, but it was a new start for both of them, and Gibbs wasn’t about to screw this one up, too.

(fin)

Gibbs Sword -

is a 27″ straight blade, eagle headed War of 1812 sword. It’s double edged blade has no engravings or markings as was sometimes the practice. The silvered brass, bone or antler, hilt has a stirrup-form knuckle-guard with a large flared cross-guard that has a shield with the crest of the American eagle.

  
**DIMENSIONS:** **Sword** 33 3/4″ long overall. 29″ blade length. Max width of blade 3/4″  **In scabbard** 35″**Weight** 2 lbs

<http://landandseacollection.com/id467.html>





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